His Hands
by everyday0203
Summary: Sakura reflects over Gaara's hands and what they truly are.


**Just a little Oneshot Drabble i wrote while in class.  
****everything is seen through Sakura's point of view.  
nothing great...i just got bored while my teacher went on and on and on and on...**

**:-)**

* * *

Tonight is colder then usual. 

I find that sleep has once again eluded me as I lie in this huge bed with my husband sleeping next to me.  
Well, not really sleeping…he's meditating deeply.  
Sleep has always been something that he's denied himself, and I am still amazed at the willpower he has in order to stay awake after all these years…if I were him, I would have given in to that most basic primal urge and let the demon consume me a long time ago.

I study him as he lies there on his back.  
His red hair slightly darker in the cold blue hue of the night.  
His black rimmed eyes like bottomless pits on his face…it's hard to believe that some of the brightest colored irises that I have ever seen are hidden behind that black.  
His jaw is relaxed and the bones on his face are prominent and regal. Even while he's resting he looks like the true leader he is.

His chest rises up and down in a hypnotizing rhythm and I find myself counting his breaths.  
He's so thin…it amazes me that someone of such a small stature can be as powerful and strong as he is.  
The gourd alone that he carries is enough to break any normal human…

But there is one feature on his body that I find myself drawn to: his hands…

They're currently resting by his side as I stare at him, loose and relaxed while he meditates.  
He normally doesn't meditate this much, but ever since we got married, he usually stays the night in bed with me…I think it's his way of trying to make the whole situation easier and as normal for me as possible.  
After all, it gets lonely sleeping in bed alone every night…but being _married_ and always sleeping alone is unbearable.

But there was still a lot of adjusting to do…  
It wasn't easy moving to the desert and marrying a man who was known as being an emotional desert himself all for the sake of an alliance.

But I managed.  
And I was pleasantly surprised to find that with a little rain, his emotional desert could start blooming…

I soon found myself not staying by his side because I had to for the sake of my country; but because I _wanted _to, country be damned.

He's never said it, and he probably never will, but I know that he wants me at his side as well.  
I can see it in his eyes.  
It's something unspoken that will remain between the two of us.

I've only told him that I loved him once, and that will be the last time that I say it.  
Once was enough for him, and until I say otherwise, he will forever know and remember that he holds that position within me.

God…those hands.

I often see him staring at them, and I wonder what he thinks about when he does…

Does he see the hands of a husband that are gentle and smooth?  
Or does he see the calloused hands of the powerful shinobi that he is?  
Perhaps he sees the hands of a diplomat that are strong and supportive in all the endeavors that they partake in.  
Maybe he sees the bloodstained hands of a killer…the hands of a monster that everyone in this village once labeled him as.

I hope he doesn't see that last one.

His hands are every single one of those, except for that last one…

His hands _are_ capable of killing though.

I don't know how many times I have seen him kill before.  
He even tried to kill me once back when we were much younger.  
I don't hold that against him though, I never have.  
After he told me about his past, I found myself thinking back to that moment; and I would have done the same thing if I were him… Crush and destroy the thing that causes you pain and brings back horrible memories.  
I would have erased that object's existence from the world as well.  
Luckily for me, he didn't go through with it.  
Naruto stopped him just in time.

When I compare my hands to his, I find that they're not much different from each other.  
Our hands both show signs of training and have thick calluses on the palms.  
Both of our hands are strong and able to endure the hardest training or the most strenuous and dangerous missions.

Both of our hands have killed.

When you just compare our hands and their physical aspects, our hands are almost identical.  
The only noticeable difference is that his hands are bigger then mine...

But yet, his hands are completely different.

My hands only know how to heal and protect.  
While his hands are able to do paperwork all day, sign treaties, train students, reduce me to a trembling mass of euphoria, and kill…

I wonder if he ever really sees how marvelous his hands are when he stares at them.

I hope he does.

But if he doesn't…I will see for him.


End file.
